Lightning Bug
by Raelin Dex
Summary: In which Spider-Man gets caught in a storm and Tony Stark never sleeps. (Rated T for language and description of injury)


**A/N:** Just a quick drabble to shake of some writer's block...not particularly meant to be taken seriously. There may be a typo or two.

* * *

 **Lightning Bug**

The silent hours between midnight and dawn were both Tony's favorite and most dreaded time of the day.

It was when he created, when he built, when he picked on Dummy for dropping things, and when he danced to old music in the lab.

But it was also when he dreamed, when he panicked; when he was sure that the depth of his own anxiety would tear him apart before dawn.

It was for these latter reasons that the great Iron Man found himself sitting alone on the floor in the middle of the night. He was staring out the window, letting the lightning streaking across the clouds wash over him. From his vantage point, high in the upper floor of the Avenger's Tower, everything outside was so small, blending in like specs of dye in a pan.

Earlier in the day, FRIDAY had mentioned something about a record breaking electrical storm set to hit, but he hadn't paid her much mind. Now, as he sat cross-legged, sipping on a warm glass of fine scotch, he absently noted how beautiful it was. Up here in the Tower, it felt like he was one with the storm; each lightning strike shimmering across the black clouds like rocks skipping on a lake.

There was a time, after the first Alien Incident in New York, where the sound of thunder absolutely terrified him. Somewhere still in his mind, each streak of light and boom of energy shot him right back to that damn portal...

He shook his head and took another sip of his drink. It warmed a deep part of his soul that nothing else seemed to be able to reach. He looked down at the amber liquid and snarled weakly. He hated how much he needed the stuff just to co-

"Boss," came FRIDAY's lilted voice quite suddenly. She'd been quiet for hours after Tony last yelled at her for ' _suggesting_ ' he go to bed. "I think you have a visitor out on the balcony."

With a questioning glance, Tony squinted through the floor-to-ceiling windows in the direction of the high-altitude terrace. Through the curtain of pouring rain, he could barely see a thing.

"Who is it, Fri? I don't see anyone."

"The storm's hindering my sensors, but I believe it is Spiderman."

Tony sighed and peered back down to his drink. He hadn't had enough to hinder his mind, but this _brooding late night Tony_ wasn't exactly what he wanted the kid to see. Still. If Peter was swinging around in this mess of a storm at three in the morning, it must be important.

Otherwise he would have at least texted first.

Cue panic again, said Tony's mind.

 _Why_ _ **would**_ _the kid be out in this weather? At this time of night? And why wouldn't he text first? He_ _ **always**_ _texted first._

Jumping up, Tony slid his glass onto a nearby counter and made for the balcony doors. FRIDAY was already opening the sliding door when he got there and a soaked, shivering mess of Spiderling came tumbling through.

"Kid!" barked Tony, even as he grabbed the boy by a sopping shoulder. "What the hell are you doing out in this storm?!"

"Didn't mean to be...honest," the teen sounded winded. His mask was clutched in his left hand, leaving his grimacing expression exposed and vulnerable. He tried to smile. His eyes were like glass. "Got c-caught up."

At that second, Tony's gaze drifted down and locked on a alarmingly large black burn wound blossomed across Peter's right shoulder and chest. "What the hell, kid!"

"I-it's not that bad," Peter tried, still clinging to a smile that was steadily falling into a wince. "Ju-st...now I know what it feels like to fly into a b-bug zap-per."

Tony glares and gently guides the kid to sit on the floor against the window. FRIDAY sealed the outside door and kicked on the heat inside. "FRIDAY, get Bruce up here."

"Already called him, boss. He'll be arriving in-"

"Tony!" Banner's mild voice was sharp with worry and something akin to annoyance as he bolted from the elevator. His hair was disheveled; t-shirt and sweatpants wrinkled from sleep. "What's going on? FRIDAY said there was an emergency... _oh_ ," it was the moment he caught sight of Peter and instantly all annoyance vanished. "What on Earth happened?"

Peter's eyes were closed, teeth grinding against pain, but Tony knew he was still conscious. "The Kid here decided to go swinging around in the worst electrical storm of the century for reasons I am anxiously awaiting to hear," even as he spoke and voice growled, his worried gaze never left Peter's wound.

Bruce's eyes went wide. He kneeled down at Peter's injured side. "Peter," he looked up, waiting for the boy to open his eyes. When he did, they were watery and edging on dullness. "Can you move your fingers? Any numbness anywhere?"

The gloved fingers of Peter's right hand wriggled. "My whole shoulder is numb," he rasped, then gasped as he shifted against the glass behind him. "H-hurts, too. Feels weird...and c-old."

"Right," Bruce's nod was curt and professional, partitioning off his emotions so his medical brain could take over. "We need to get him warmed up before we do anything else. FRIDAY, can you please heat the Medbay to 80 degrees Fahrenheit?"

"Of course, Dr. Banner. I have also taken the liberty of activating the heating blanket there since Karen is not currently operational to warm Peter."

Peter's expression collapsed. "Aw no, Karen..." he raised his mask with a shaking grip. "Will she be al-right, Mr. S-stark?"

The line of Tony's mouth softened, but only just. "She'll be fine, kid. I'm more worried about you at the moment. How long were you sitting out there? Why didn't you knock at least?"

Peter started at the floor. "I-I didn't-"

"If you say you didn't want to bother me, I'll smack you right here, injuries be damned."

At least the kid had the good sense to look sheepish.

"Alright," Bruce broke in, obviously not wanting to be around some intense father-son moment. "Let's table any more talking for now. We need to get you warm and get that wound taken care of. Honestly, I can't believe you're even conscious right now."

"I passed out right after," Peter let slip before realizing what he was saying. Too late to backtrack now... "but n-not for long! I woke up when I...fell."

Tony's face sunk. "You fell, too?" he sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose with the hand not clamped to Peter's shoulder. " _Of course_ you did," another sigh, this one more tired. "Com'on lightning bug, time to get you fixed up before I decide to start yelling."

Peter tried to smile, but it didn't quite make his eyes.

With Tony and Bruce's help, he managed to stand...sort of. As a thick black frame hovered around the edges of his vision, he was painfully aware how much he was leaning into Tony's grip. The older man was nearly carrying all his weight now. Bones shifted and pinched in his side as Tony secured an arm around his waist, but he wasn't about to whine about that. He already blurted out that he'd fallen...he really didn't want to admit he got hurt then, too.

It felt like hours to Peter when they finally reached the elevator. He knew he was fading...black and red spots flickered every time he blinked. Tony's soft voice was unfocused and echoey. When he breathed, an acrid stench of burnt flesh hung in his nose. "Uhg, that's gross," he bit out, keenly aware of his own embarrassment even as his consciousness dimmed.

Tony and Bruce shared a mildly amused snort. "Yeah it is. One of the many reasons that human barbecue is a bad idea," Tony meant it as a joke, but he could tell it went another way in the kid's jumbled brain.

"I dn' feel so good now..."

"Just hang in there, bud," Tony murmured as the elevator doors slid open again. "Almost there, then you can sleep."

Peter nodded mutely and did his best to follow Tony's lead into the medical lab.

The trio barely had time to lean Peter against one of the medical beds and slide a trash bin under him before he lost his fight with the nausea.

Bruce quickly gathered supplies around the lab while Tony stood behind Peter, keeping strong, gentle hands around the kid's body as he retched.

There were tears mixed with the vomit in the bin and unwelcomed coughs came up like sobs.

Bruce did not miss the blood trickle left on Peter's lips with each bout. "Peter," he asked once the last of the heaves subsided and Tony helped lift the quivering child onto the bed. "You with us, buddy?"

A moan and a nod was all the response they got.

Good enough.

"When you fell, what else broke?"

Tony's eyes jumped up to Bruce. His heart was pounding, breath coming up staggered. "What do you mean, _what else_?"

Bruce ignored him, focusing solely on his patient. Slowly, Peter's eyes peeled open and undamaged arm shifted around his middle. "A c-couple r-ibs I think...my head is r-ringing."

Bruce nodded, seemingly unsurprised. Moving to pull a mobile x-ray device closer, he looked to Tony. "Tony. I need you to breathe. Need your help to get the suit off him."

At that moment, Tony realized he was holding his breath, fingers twitching over the bed in a frantic dance of distraction. Bruce's voice was all he needed to pull out of it. Peter needed him right now.

He could fall apart later.

"Right," he nodded, grabbing a pair of medical shears.

"W-wait! Wait, Mr. S-stark! D-don't cut it up!" Peter's panic didn't even make him pause.

"I'm sorry Pete. It's the only way," then, gentler, he rested a hand over the kid's hair. "Besides, don't worry. You've got more suits."

"Wha'?"

As he cut away the multi-million dollar body suit, Tony smirked. "Kid, I'm on Mach 64 of my suit. You really think I'd only make you just one?"

Peter blinked slowly. Tony thought he looked a lot like an baby owl. A sad, probably concussed baby owl, but a cute one nonetheless. As he carefully stripped the kid to his boxers and pulled the heating blanket up to his waist, Bruce dealt with cutting away the pieces of the damaged fabric on Peter's right arm and shoulder, cautiously avoiding the parts just around the wound that were glued down with blood. He could soak that off later.

"Alright, let's see what the damage is," Bruce started and looked at the monitor over Peter's head.

Tony stood by, brain settling back into natural panic mode.

Peter, for his part, was barely awake. Later, he would remember shapes and blurs and distinctly something about Tony making him more suits, but nothing else. At that moment, he was drifting, eyes bleary and blinking lazily.

"Body temp is a little high, but not terrible. Considering how cold he was, higher temp is better than lower. Looks like outside of the obvious burn, there's four broken ribs and a mild concussion," Bruce nodded as he read the screen, pleased. "He'll be fine as long as we get this wound cleaned up before any infection can set in. Worst case, there may be some lingering nerve damage in the shoulder."

Tony was gaping. "What about neurological? His brain just took a fucking lightning strike!"

Bruce looked over his glasses like a man with infinite patience. "I'm well aware of that, Tony. Look, at the moment, everything is checking out. He's been conscious and responsive. First let me clean him up and then we'll run an MRI just to make sure. Alright?"

Tony was bouncing on a nervous foot and frowning deeply, but he nodded just the same. He knew Bruce was the best doctor out there. He knew he could trust him with Peter. He also knew if he didn't calm down, he'd be passing out shortly, himself.

Satisfied, Bruce leaned back down toward Peter, trying to get in the kid's blurring sightline. "Peter, I'm going to give you something to help you rest, ok? You'll feel a little pinch and then warmth. You ready?" honestly, he wasn't sure Peter actually understood a word he said, but the kid nodded anyway, closing his eyes as Bruce reached for a needle and swiftly injected it into a vein in his left arm. "There you go," Bruce smiled. "Just relax, Pete. We'll have you fixed up in no time."

Peter wanted to thank Dr. Banner, wanted to say something to Mr. Stark, but suddenly everything felt slow and warm and his eyes seemed to drift close of their own accord. He knew nothing more.

* * *

A subtle hint of antiseptic was the first thing to assault Peter's senses when consciousness returned to him. It was a high spike of a smell, just strong enough to awake a headache pulsing deep in his temples. He felt himself groan from far away; felt his eyebrows knit together before he actually remembered they existed.

Then, a light pressure on his hand. It was soft and protective. It grounded him back to reality and to his own existence. He heard words from a familiar voice, but he couldn't quite understand them.

"Ow," was all he could manage when he'd found his own voice.

There was another sound, deep and rich-a laugh, he realized. "Out cold for 12 hours and all Chatterbox has to say is "ow"?"

Peter wanted to laugh in return, but it was all he could do to open his eyes...even more so to focus on the dark blur sitting next to him. It was Tony, of course, with face smiling and kind eyes filled with worry and exhaustion. "Hey there bud, welcome back."

"Hey," Peter murmured, voice soft and cracked. He tried to shift, just a little, but his whole body felt numb and heavy. "Wha' happ'nd?"

"You got zapped by lightning, Underoos. What do you remember?"

Peter thought hard on that one. He'd left school, gone on patrol...he remembered it raining, and a mugging, and then...he could only see bits and pieces of pain, the feeling of falling and vomiting, Dr Banner's voice, and Mr. Stark holding him up.

And something else.

"You...you said you made more than one Spider suit."

Tony grinned. "I'd say your brain's still intact, then."

Peter rolled his eyes a little. "Why does everything feel numb?"

"It's just the sedative, Peter," Dr. Banner's voice piped up from across the room. Peter could see him now, sitting on a stool behind Tony, looking at him through a semi-transparent computer monitor. "Your shoulder and arm are still healing, but feeling should come back shortly. Unfortunately the jolt did a number on your body, so you're gonna be achy for a couple days still."

Peter tilted his head, wanting to see the damage, but found his entire chest, right shoulder and arm swathed in bandages. "Will I be ok? Usually stuff heals faster than this..."

He could feel Tony still gripping his hand. "Did you miss what I said about 'struck by lightning', kid? Basically every nerve in your shoulder got fried. That takes time to fix, even for you. Not to mention the broken bones and concussion you managed to get along the way."

Then with a shock, something struck Peter and his eyes widened. "Ohmygod I was out for 12 hours?! Aunt May is gonna murder me!"

Tony was reaching out to calm the boy before he even had a chance to try moving. "Chill, Pete. I texted Aunt Hottie while you were out. She thinks you're spending the day working on your science project with me...which we will actually need to do now that I think about it."

"So you didn't tell her?" there was a childlike fear in Peter's eyes that reminded Tony just how young the Spiderling really was.

"No, kid, I didn't tell her. Figured I'd save us both from the yelling for once. You're just lucky she works weird nurse hours. Far as she knows, you were in your bed asleep all night and came over here in the morning. Speaking of, you're gonna need to call her and convince her to let you stay over tonight. You can't go home like this and thankfully, it's Saturday."

Peter grinned despite himself. He could definitely think of worse ways to spend a Saturday than hanging out with his idol...even if half his body was doing it's best impression of 'the mummy.' "Thanks, Mr. Stark. A-and Dr. Banner...thanks for fixing me up."

Banner nodded. "Anytime, Lightning Bug."

Tony grinned like a madman as Peter groaned. "Yeah, that's definitely gonna stick."

 **End.**

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 **A/N:** Thanks for reading! Maybe one day I'll turn this into an actual story.


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